The Crucible
by bulmablue-eyes
Summary: A short standalone, describing John's feelings as he is due to give his confession.


**The Crucible**

A/N – Just a brief stand-alone, describing John's feelings as he is due to give his confession.

John Proctor's eyes darted nervously from the watching face of Danforth to the form of Mr Cheever, who sat, watching, a pen hovering in anticipation over the paper, waiting hungrily for his confession.

"Why must it be written?" He didn't want this. He was horrified by his own actions, disgusted that he stood here confessing – no, lying – that he had allied himself with the Devil when those who never lied now died kept their pure souls. But, as he had told Elizabeth, he will have his life. Even as Danforth explained to him, to his horror and shame, that his confession would be told to the village, he knew that this was what must be done if he were to ever see his sons again, to see his next child enter the world.

John was silent as other accused souls were brought in to him, turning to face the wall as Rebecca Nurse spoke to him. And then, Danforth spoke.

He spoke slowly to John. Formally. As though he were in a courthouse. This was it; it was time for the confession. "Mr Proctor, have you seen the Devil in your life? Did you bind yourself to the Devil's service?"

John took a deep breath and clenched his teeth with painful force, speaking through them, "I did."

He closed his eyes in shame, pursing his lips as he was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of nausea, sick to the stomach from the thought of his own pretence of a confession. He forced himself to ignore the cry of shock and disbelief from Goody Nurse, choosing instead to focus on his own damned soul.

His eyes shot open, though, wide and dark with a fiery anger as Danforth began naming the other accused, Rebecca Nurse, Mary Easty, Martha Corey, asking if he had every seen them with the Devil – if he had ever seen _anybody _with the Devil. Narrowing his eyes, so that his own lashes blocked the image of the flame-like sunrise that had previously been mirrored there, John spoke slowly and clearly. "I did not."

Danforth was unimpressed. It was clear from the way his chest heaved a great frustrated sigh.

"They think to go like saints." John continued, still refusing to look at Goody Nurse. "I like not to spoil their names."

Once again, Danforth gave a great deliberate sigh of displeasure, and chose to ask again. "To your knowledge was Rebecca Nurse ever – "

"I speak my own sins," John interrupted sharply, looking up into the Deputy-Governor's face. "I cannot judge another."

"Excellency, it is enough he confess himself," Reverend Hale interrupted, and John allowed himself to release his held breath in relief. "Let him sign it."

Danforth hesitated before nodding reluctantly as the confession and pen were held out to John. "Come, man," he ordered impatiently, "Sign it."

John glanced down anxiously at his confession, his brow itching with a nervous sweat. "You have all witnessed it." He said, his breath coming in sharp, fretful gasps. "It is enough."

"Do you sport with me?" Danforth demanded, gaping incredulously at John. "You will sign your name or it is no confession!"

Finally, John gave up his resistance and leant over, his breast heaving with each gasp of breath, and signed the confession. Before he had released it, though, Danforth reached out to take it, to nail it to the church door.

"_No!_" John seized the paper, clutching it desperately to his breast. "I have confessed myself! Is there no good penitence but it be public? God does not need my name nailed upon the church! God sees my name; God knows how black my sins are! It is enough!"

Danforth stepped closer to John, his hand outstretched towards the confession. "Mr Proctor – "

"You will not use me!" John shouted furiously, stepping back, further away from the other man. "I have three children – how may I teach them to walk like men in the world, and I sold my friends?"

"Mr Proctor," Danforth said gently, desperately pushing him to hand over the confession. "I must have good and legal proof."

"You are the high court, your word is good enough!" John insisted, his eyes darting erratically from face to face, running a hand fretfully through his dishevelled chestnut brown hair.

"It is the same, is it not?" Danforth enquired suspiciously, watching John as though he were a rabid animal, likely to attack any moment. "Do you mean to deny this confession when you are free?"

"I mean to deny nothing!"

"Then explain to me, Mr Proctor," Danforth asked, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Why will you not let – "

"Because it is my _name_!" John cried, his heart thundering in his chest, like the pounding of a great drum, echoing deafeningly in his ears. "Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul; leave me my name!"

There was a deafening silence as all eyes rested on John's panting form, his fists clenched in fury at his sides, his dark eyes wide, darting manically.

Slowly, Danforth raised his hand to point at the confession. "Is that document a lie?" He demanded, looking coldly into John's eyes, his own eyes cold and steely. "I will not deal in lies, Mister! You will give me your honest confession in my hand, or I cannot keep you from the rope." He waited for a response, but John remained silent and motionless. "Which way do you go, Mister?"

John stared, wide-eyed, at the paper, watching as he slowly tore it down the middle and crumpled it in his trembling fist. Burning hot tears of fury flowed down his cheeks, stinging his eyes, scorching the skin of his face as though they were fire, but he made no move to wipe them away. He would die this morning, he knew that now. He would die this morning, an innocent man, his precious, honest soul unbroken, for God to judge as he will.

Reverend Hale cried out hysterically, in horror, "Man, you will hang! You cannot!"

"I can," John responded, his back straight and strong, his head high. "And there's your first marvel, that I can. You have made your magic now, for now I do think I see some shred of goodness in John Proctor. Not enough to weave a banner with, but white enough to keep it from such dogs."

He glanced contemptuously at Danforth, tears of fury still in his eyes. Men such as him, these judges, they were like mongrel dogs. Not satisfied unless they have a pure soul to destroy, to chew on it like a dog would chew on a bone. Well John was sure of himself now; he would not give a lie to dogs.

Elizabeth ran towards him, and he held her tightly to him; the last time he would ever do so. "Give them no tear!" He instructed tenderly. "Tears pleasure them! Show honour now, show a stony heart and sink them with it!"

John allowed himself to kiss her, one last time, before he and Rebecca Nurse were led away to hang; to allow God to give them their final judgement.

Elizabeth darted to the window as a drumroll started outside, echoing through the landscape, striking a fear in her heart as thought the Armageddon itself were beginning. She leaned weakly against the bars of the window, her eyes burning with unshed tears as she watched the noose being placed around her husband's neck, her whole body trembling as she prepared herself to witness his impending saintly death.

"Woman, plead with him!" Hale begged, desperately for her to persuade John to change his mind, to confess to lies. "Woman! It is pride, it is vanity!"

Elizabeth watched as the new sun rose fully over the land, its warming light washing over those on the scaffold as they closed their eyes, awaiting death, judgement and salvation. From her view in the window, Elizabeth could just see John reciting the Lord's Prayer, Rebecca Nurse, Mary Easty and Martha Corey speaking along with him, the sun's golden rays making their skin glow, as though they were already angels in the eyes of God.

As the platform disappeared from under her husband's feet, Elizabeth let out a choked sob, watching as he fell the short distance to his death, to be judged by God.

"He have his goodness now," she said through her tears, not taking her eyes off her husband's body. "God forbid I take it from him!"

_1445 words_


End file.
